The More They Stay the Same
by Cleo the Muse
Summary: As Daniel's memories return, so do some of his workaholic tendencies. Jack drags him home with him for some muchneeded R&R. Released from the 'I'll Be Home' zine for Dame Knickers.


**The More They Stay the Same** by Cleo the Muse  
All Ages  
Gen, Friendship (Jack/Daniel)  
Warnings: None  
Episodes: Takes place after "Fallen" & "Homecoming", but before "Fragile Balance".  
Synopsis: As Daniel's memories return, so do some of his workaholic tendencies. Jack drags him home with him for some much-needed R&R.  
Status: Completed as of November 18, 2007, released December 8, 2007  
Notes: Thanks again to my wonderful, chocolate-deprived beta, Nyx Ro. Released from the "I'll Be Home" zine for Dame Knickers.

* * *

**The More They Stay the Same**

_"The habits of life form the soul, and the soul forms the countenance."  
__-- Honoré De Balzac, _The Abbé Birotteau

"Off-base? Really?"

General Hammond smiled, shook his head, and picked up a folder. "Doctor Jackson's 'missing-in-action' status has been revoked. It'll take a few weeks longer to get all his other paperwork cleared and back-pay for the last year released, but he has been cleared to leave base. In fact, all of SG-1 has the weekend off. I don't want see you or Doctor Jackson on-base until 0700 Monday morning, is that clear?"

"Crystal, sir!" Jack exclaimed, so excited he was nearly bouncing on his toes.

"Well, go on, then. I'll let Major Carter and Teal'c know."

"Thank you, sir!" he beamed, throwing the general one last ear-to-ear grin before retreating from the office. He stuck his hands in his pockets and whistled all the way to the nearest elevator.

Stepping out on the eighteenth floor, he merrily made his way to Daniel's office while making plans for the weekend. Eating, sleeping, and watching TV were definite priorities, but the most important thing was spending time with the friend he thought he'd lost. He wondered if he could convince Carter and Teal'c to come over for a long-overdue team night.

Right. Like he could _keep_ them from coming over once they found out Daniel was being allowed off-base. He'd tell them to come over tomorrow, though: tonight was for the two of 'em.

"Oh, Danny," he called out, strolling through the archaeologist's open door. Predictably, the younger man had his nose buried in a book. He was nibbling on a Bic, slowly deforming the cheap plastic pen's cap.

"The more things change..." he muttered under his breath. "Earth to Doctor Jackson! Hello! Danny!"

Daniel absently reached for the coffee cup at his side, so Jack stretched across the desk and pulled the mug out of the way. When his fingers closed on nothing, Daniel finally extracted his nose from the book and glanced over, then looked up and blinked at Jack. "Oh," he mumbled. "Um, hi, Jack."

"Hi, Daniel," the older man grinned. "Welcome back."

"Yeah, thanks again. I mean I'm still trying to remember stuff from before, but I think it's good to _be_ back."

Jack rolled his eyes, though he was certain Daniel had genuinely misinterpreted the intent of the "welcome back" statement. "I meant, welcome back to the _real_ world, Daniel, as opposed to the literary one you were buried into so far, you never heard me call your name."

"Oh!" His eyebrows danced in confusion. "So, uh... what did you want?" His gaze fixed on the coffee cup Jack still held, and it was no secret what _he _wanted.

Shaking his head, Jack released the mug, allowing the caffeine-fiend to get his fix. "Pack it up. Hammond's ordered us off-base for the weekend."

He pushed up his glasses. "I thought you said my apartment's lease had expired several months ago."

"It had... but that's not what I meant." He crossed his arms and leaned them on the desk. "You might not have this memory back or read it in one of you journals yet, but you didn't have anywhere to live when you first... uh, when you first joined SG-1. You stayed in my guest room until you got your own place."

"I did?" Daniel sounded genuinely surprised, which made Jack feel a little hurt. He immediately gave Daniel his best wounded look, which clearly worked, since Daniel began to stammer, "N-no, of course I did. I mean, you _said _I did, so I did, right? And, uh..." Flushing lightly, Daniel slammed his book shut, stuffed a stack of paper into a nearby file folder, then grabbed a second, similarly-shaped book and added it to the one tucked into the crook of his left elbow. "Let's go."

"Just like that?"

Daniel gave him a confused look. "Yeah... why?"

"No arguments? No 'just let me finish this chapter' pleas?"

"No. Should I have?"

"Who are you and what have you done with Daniel Jackson?" he joked.

The younger man shrugged. "I said I was Arrom. _You're_ the one who insisted I was Daniel Jackson."

Jack stared for a moment, then shook his head when he caught a certain gleam in Daniel's eyes. "Okay, wise guy..." he warned playfully. "Pizza, beer, and your favorite sport: hockey. Leave the books."

"They're some of my old journals. I have a favorite sport?"

"Daniel, Daniel... you're doubting me again."

-----

Five hours later, after the consumption of one and a half pizzas and one too many beers--though one usually _was_ too many for Daniel--Jack returned from a trip to the bathroom to find his friend asleep on the couch. He had slumped over, but still clutched the journal to his chest like a lifeline.

Which, Jack supposed, it was. Unlike the two mission journals Daniel brought to the house, this one contained personal information. Although written in a language Daniel had begun inventing as a child, Jack had deliberately withheld them when he'd stored the rest on-base, just in case someone got snoopy enough to try to translate. Jack hoped having them back now would help Daniel find out who he really was, not just what he'd seen or done.

Daniel, even without all of his memories, was still Daniel. Flashes of insecurity coupled with moments of arrogant brilliance, refreshing innocence and world-weary wisdom, academic stoicism and a wicked sense of humor: the linguist was a man of many contradictions, but all combined to form one uniquely-shaped personality that was pure, no-substitutions-allowed Daniel.

Jack wouldn't have him any other way.

Grabbing a fuzzy blanket out of the linen closet, he quietly returned to the living room and shut off the TV. Carefully lifting Daniel's journal and glasses, Jack put them safely on the coffee table before spreading the blanket over his slumbering friend.

"Thanks, Jack," Daniel slurred sleepily, then stilled again.

Jack smiled and gave the blanket-covered shoulder a squeeze. "Yeah," he murmured thickly. "Welcome home, Danny."


End file.
